


The Separation of Light from Dark

by fischin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Vampires, and hes overworked, and very gay, taeyong is a museum currator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:59:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fischin/pseuds/fischin
Summary: "It's Michelangelo, right?" Taeyong asked with a curious glance back to Yoonoh before studying it more. "I don't think I've seen this one before, but his style's very distinct.""That's right." Yoonoh's mouth turned up in a gentle smirk. "You have a good eye.""I've never seen this one in any museums." Taeyong put a finger to his chin, ignoring the compliment. Of course he knew such a famous style, it'd be shameful if he didn't with his field of work. "Where did you get it?"Yoonoh's smirk widened to a grin slowly, amusement twinkling behind his eyes. "It's.. actually a personal commission.""Haha, right." Taeyong let out a fake laugh. "No, really, how'd you get your hands on this?""I asked him to paint it for me.""You.." Taeyong turned fully to search Yoonoh's face, trailing off after finding no hint of a joke.Yoonoh's gentle smile didn't falter for a moment, his eyebrows raised expectantly as he waited for Taeyong to finish his sentence."Wait, seriously?"Where Jaehyun is a vampire and Taeyong is very gay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, but decided to post it, so I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, I’m heading out now.” Taeyong said into the phone perched between his shoulder and cheek as he clocked himself out, shifting his backpack and digging out his keys

_“Tae?”_ Came Taeil’s worried voice through the receiver.

“Hm?” Taeyong hummed absently, pushing through the door to the Gallery hall, thankfully barren of visitors since it was closing hours. He flicked the light off and he pushed through the next set of doors, into the museum’s lobby.

_“You sound..tired.”_

Taeyong nodded to the pretty receptionist- who, if he recalled correctly, was named Sunmi- packing up her own things as he activated the museum’s security alarm. He pushed open the hulking entrance doors, grimacing at the icy air that assaulted his face.

“It’s been a long day.” Taeyong sighed, returning the wave Sunmi sent him as she shuffled out the building. He checked the time on his phone. “Plus, it’s 12 in the morning.”

_“You aren’t overworking yourself again, are you?”_

If Taeyong was being honest, he probably was. It couldn’t be healthy, operating on barely four hours of sleep every day. His part time restaurant job and being assistant curator for the museum were very inconveniently positioned in opposite districts of Seoul, which had him running back and forth between parallel ends of the capital. It was working him to the bone- no, past the bone, into the marrow.

But he’d drop dead- probably from exhaustion- before he let his friend stress over him, so he simply responded with an equivocal hum.

Taeyong listened to the click-clacking of Sunmi’s heels hitting the stairs as he locked up. Pocketing the obnoxiously packed ring of museum keys, he trudged down the steps, pausing a moment as he grabbed his phone with his hand, realising the silence on the other end. “Really, hyung, I’m fine.”

_“I’m worried about you, Taeyong..”_ Came his friend’s quiet admission. _“You don’t take care of yourself enough.”_

“You sound like my mom.” Taeyong watched the cloud of breath float from his mouth as he huffed out a nervous laugh. He didn’t like how serious Taeil sounded when he didn’t use nicknames. Eyes blurry with tears from the blunt wind, he continued his descent.

_“I’m serious, Tae.”_ Taeil’s voice hardened. _“I don’t want you to repeat what happened last year. That shit was scary. I might be traumatized.”_

Taeyong cringed at the memory of when he’d passed out in the middle of karaoke with his friend, he’d woken up in the hospital with an I.V. in his arm, as Taeil’s anxious face looming over him. Doctors said it was just a case of dehydration, and sleep deprivation, but Taeil had nonetheless had an absolute meltdown after Taeyong had confessed what had caused it. Back then he’d only just started his job as assistant curator, having had a difficult time adjusting.

_“Maybe..”_ Taeil continued apprehensively. _“Maybe you could come over tonight? We haven’t spent time together in a while. I could make some tea, and we could watch that new drama I’ve been talking about, and eat ramen- or take out, if you want-”_

“As great as that sounds, hyung,” Taeyong cut him off before he could get started. He pulled his jacket tighter against his chest with a sniffle, stepping onto the sidewalk of the city, fairly clear of others at the lateness of the hour. The hand holding his phone was beyond numb. He really regretted not bringing gloves. “I’m gonna have to decline. I have-”

_“A lot of paperwork, yes, I_ know _.”_ Taeil sighed on the other end. _“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You never have time for me anymore. You’re always so busy, I’m starting to think you’re just avoiding me..”_

“Aww,” The pout in his friend’s voice pulled Taeyong’s frozen face into a smile. “Are you feeling neglected, hyung?”

_“Yes, I miss you like crazy. But I’m more worried about you than anything, Taeyong-ah.”_

“Alright, _mom_ , I get it.” Taeyong put a hand to his face in an attempt to bring some type of feeling back into the apples of his cheeks as he walked down the steps of the subway station. The concrete walls offered refuge from the frigid wind’s attacks, and Taeyong let out a quivering sigh of relief as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the tunnel.

“I promise I’ll take a nice, long, relaxing bath when I get home, if you promise to stop worrying so much about me, okay? You’re gonna have grey hair before 30, if you keep at it.” Taeyong teased, his humor slowly seeping back into him as he warmed.

_“I’m slowly turning into an ahjumma, and it’s all your fault.”_

Taeyong snorted. “I have to go now, hyung, I’m about to get on the subway.”

_“Okay, Taeyongie, make it home safe. Please rest! I love you!”_ Taeil made smooching noises on the other end, and Taeyong hung up with a small smile. He pocketed his phone right as he clashed into what felt like a brick wall, but based on the wool coat Taeyong got a face full of, it was much more likely a human.

Taeyong stumbled back, tripping in his haste. His backpack slipped from his shoulder, the museum keys and his own apartment keys spilled from his pocket. Taeyong confirmed it as human when they swiftly reached out and caught Taeyong by his arm, saving him from the promise of a bruised butt.

He was pulled up and found himself face to face with a calm man, his hood pulled over most of his hair, the rest of which fell over his eyes.The low lighting of the underground casted long shadows over his face. Despite what little Taeyong could make of his features, he could tell from the way the stranger held himself that he was effortlessly attractive, and suppressed the urge to stare.

“Woah, careful.” His voice was deep and warm, Taeyong was sure it could have melted the frost from his hair. Aside from the slight hint of concern, the man looked surprisingly unphased for just having been bumped into so roughly. He looked rather amused actually, his lips upturned into the beginning of a smile as he watched Taeyong stare and fumble to secure his footing.

“I- sorry, I didn’t see you-” Taeyong stammered as he stepped back, prepared to spew a string of apologies, the leftover cold on his face chased away by the stinging heat of embarrassment.

The man simply patted Taeyong’s arm, gave a nod and a reassuring smile, and walked past him, leaving Taeyong reeling to collect himself.

A bit discombobulated, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, slipping his keys back into his pocket as he rushed into the subway car before it departed. He sat down, dismissing the vague sense he was forgetting something. He chalked it up to his tiredness and perplexing run-in with the stranger.

Once Taeyong finally dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment, he unlocked the door and fell in, sighing in relief as welcoming warmth from his apartment curled around him. He clumsily stepped out of his shoes, his backpack fell to the floor with a thump as he shuffled out of his jacket. He’d clean the mess when he woke up, he promised.

Taeyong focused on what his bed would feel like as he shuffled his way blindly through the dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. It wasn’t like he needed to anyway, he’d done it enough times to know the place like the back of his hand, pitch black or not.

  
Once in his room, he collapsed on his bed, too tired to even attempt crawling out of his clothes. The cold from outside rolled off of him in waves, lulling him to sleep.

His dreams were filled with soft hair, gentle eyes, and the feeling of firm hands gripping his arm.

  


Taeyong jerked awake, an insistent buzz under his leg. He groaned, digging into his pocket, he pulled out the culprit. His eyes strained at the brightness that pierced his eyes.

 

**5:00 AM**

**_Time for work, Taeyong!_ **

 

He scowled at the enthusiasm of his alarm note, pressed dismiss, and shoved his face back into the warmth of his covers. He considered changing it to something more appropriate, like _‘Prepare to die again, Taeyong!”_ , but he was too tired to be bothered. He simply let out an exasperated sigh, summoning the courage to crawl out of bed.

Taeyong rolled unceremoniously onto the floor, the cold of it seeped into his face as he lay there, hoping it’d draw him closer to consciousness. It didn’t, the cool surface a comforting contrast against his warm skin.

_I’ll just lay here for a minute,_ he promised with another sigh.

 

There was suddenly more buzzing, though this time it was further away. Taeyong, realizing he’d dozed off, peeled himself off the floor, and felt around for his bed for his phone in the darkness of the room.

 

**5:35 A.M.**

**_Time to go, Taeyong!_ **

 

“Shit!” Taeyong threw it back down, suddenly very awake, and rushed out of his room. His socks slipped on the hardwood floor, and he tripped over a very lumpy something in his haste to get ready, cursing his pre-sleep self once he realised it was his backpack.

Taeyong managed to get out the door at a reasonable time, though the creeping feeling of missing something followed him out of the apartment. He triple checked everything before he made his way to the subway station, the chill of morning air stung his cheeks.

It was Thursday, so he only worked a shift at the museum, his sanity secured for a few days more.

 

~

 

Taeyong stood at the giant museum doors when the sudden realization as to why he felt he was missing something slapped him in the face. He fished in his pocket. Then his other pocket. Then, panic spreading through his stomach, his backpack, even pulling out all its contents in hopes he’d thrown them in from his haze of exhaustion yesterday. He forgot _the keyring._

He blanched, remembering rushing to gather his stuff from the subway station. He must have forgotten to pick them up in his haste.. Maybe if he ran back to the subway station now, he might be able to find them.

“Good morning, Taeyong.” Came Sunmi’s voice behind him, a hand tapped his shoulder.

Taeyong turned with a rush of relief. “Oh, Sunmi, thank god.”

“Something wrong?” Sunmi’s face was bright despite the concerned furrow in her brow.

“I- yes, actually.” Taeyong flushed. “I..lost the keys to the museum.”

“Like, the whole keyring?”

Taeyong nodded. That keyring unlocked basically every room and exhibit case of the museum, and without it, Taeyong could barely survive a day at the job.

The receptionist’s face split with an amused grin. “Ah, that’s okay. I have a spare for the front door, at least.”

 

Taeyong faired better than he thought he would without the keys, though anxiety still clung to his back throughout the day, he managed to carry out his regular duties, assembling new collections and updating catalogs. He was scribbling some details for an order of new displays in one of the empty gallery halls, nearing the end of his shift, when a familiar warm voice sounded behind him.

“Hello, again.”

Taeyong nearly jumped out of his skin, a startled yelp escaped  him as he whipped around, his pen and forms scattered to the ground.

“Ah, sorry.” Said the man from the subway station, gaze curious and somewhat apologetic. He picked up Taeyong’s pen and papers, eyes twinkling with mirth in the soft lighting of the gallery hall, a small smirk played on his handsome face.

Actually, handsome wasn’t the word Taeyong would use, it felt like an injustice. The man was undoubtedly handsome, yes, but more than that, he was overwhelmingly _beautiful._ A compellingly perfect, yet contradictory, piece of art, with high cheekbones, straight eyebrows, and a strong jaw, but also full cheeks, and softly sloped nose. Gentle lashes fanned grey eyes, the unusual color complimented by plump, rosy lips, and pale, honey colored skin. His wavy, ruddy brown hair appeared even softer than last night, no longer hidden under a hood.

The calmly charming energy that emanated from him drove home the graceful beauty of his visuals, and this man, Taeyong realised as the ambient glow of the gallery hall’s lighting cast soft shadows on his skin, deserved his own exhibit in the museum. Everything about him whispered _art_ , and Taeyong thought he finally understood how visitors could stare at things in the museum for so many hours at a time.

Nonetheless confounded that the man was here, Taeyong stiffly took his pen and paper from him, no doubt staring with the same dumb expression from their first encounter.

“Thank you,..sir..” He bowed slightly, grimacing at how awkward he probably sounded. Taeyong wasn’t sure if he should treat him like a customer, or an acquaintance. His customer service voice needed work, he didn’t have much practice since his position was more behind the scenes management and less social catering.

The man didn’t seem to mind though, his smirk grew, the twinkle in his eyes shining a little brighter. “I’m actually here to return something,” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a familiar, obnoxiously packed keyring.

“Oh! Oh my god!” Taeyong gasped at the sight of it. He stopped himself, a second short of snatching them away as the stranger dropped them into his hand, reminding himself he was just a curator, not a gollum. “I thought I’d never see these again!”

“I noticed them on the station floor this morning, and thought you might miss them.” The man explained, his eyes followed the keys as Taeyong latched the ring to the belt loop of his jeans. “It’s lucky there’s a return address on that, I imagine they’re quite important, what with there being 27 of them.”

“They are,” Taeyong nodded, silently counting the antique brass to distract himself from the smile that threatened to split across his face at the unironic sophistication of the man’s speech. “I wouldn’t be able to do half of my job if any of these keys went missing more than a day. So, I’m grateful that you took the time to get them back to me.”

The man nodded, eyes flicking back up to Taeyong’s face, then at the artwork on the walls. “I felt it was appropriate that I did so, being that it’s my fault you lost them in the first place. I felt quite guilty, actually, after running off without helping you pick up your things, or even so much as a ‘sorry’. It felt a bit rude. I suppose this is some form of an apology.”

“Oh- no, no, that’s not necessary.” Taeyong waved his hands nervously in dismissal of such a  serious admittance, which the situation barely called for, especially when delivered with as much confidence as it had been. “What’s important is that I have them back now. I’m sorry too, for bumping into you. I was pretty tired last night, I should’ve paid more attention.”

"I..suppose we’re on equal grounds, then.” The man nodded, a shy smile pushed dimples into his cheeks. Oh, he couldn’t get any cuter.

“Right.” Taeyong copied the nod, he awkwardly rung his hands together behind his back. “Um, anyway, thank you again for bringing these back,” he laughed, jangling the keys with a shake from his waist. He offered his hand. “..sir.”

“Oh,” The man gave a curt shake, his skin was cold. “My name’s Jung Yoonoh.”

“Lee Taeyong.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You look happier than usual, spill.”

Taeyong left work feeling a little lighter than normal, which he could blame on a few things.

One: He’d worked only one shift today, at the museum, which was his favourite job of the two he had, which meant he hadn’t run between subway stations to the part of town he always hated coming back to. It was such a dull place, buildings stark blacks and dirty whites above the grey light of dawn on the skyline, looming and depressing. The eerily silent mornings made the whole district feel abandoned, and Taeyong found himself looking behind his back often as he made his way to the restaurant. The lack of dealing with that today was stress relieving.

Two: Although the initial loss of his keys had brought anxiety crawling up his back for most of the day, the relief of getting them back was a surprisingly lucky turn of events. He’d not only been brought back his keys, but he’d had them returned by the intriguingly charming Yoonho, the name to the face brought Taeyong’s heart rate up on its own.

Three: Lastly, Ten, one of his best friends, had called and asked if he had time for coffee, which he blessedly did since his workload consisted of curating alone that day. Catching up with Ten always brought a breath of fresh air to Taeyong’s monotonous schedule.

He now sat in front of said friend in a quiet cafe, the sounds of cups clinking, coffee in the air, and staff murmuring to take orders providing a bit of ambiance, adding to his pleasant mood.

“I met this guy..” Taeyong admitted, sipping his coffee to busy himself from the immediate perk of interested of Ten’s face.

“Okay..” Ten quirked an eyebrow, his lips twitched into a smirk. “I’m gonna guess, right off the bat from how red your face is, that he’s hot.”

“Shut up, my face isn’t red,” Taeyong kicked into Ten’s shin under the table, ignoring the heat on his cheeks.

“Ow.” Ten frowned, rubbing the spot in mock pain, immediately replaced with mirth as he squinted his eyes. “Even if you didn’t look like a tomato right now, I’d still be able to tell. You know I can read you like a book. So, spill.”

“I think he’s the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in my life.” Taeyong put down his coffee, resting his chin in his palm as he recalled the perfection that was Yoonoh.

“Um? I’m literally right in front of you.” The other put a hand to his chest.

“I’m serious!” Taeyong kicked him again, harder this time, ignoring the yelp of pain his friend let out. “He’s so..pretty. Like he stepped out of a fairy tale book. He has grey eyes, Ten. _Grey_.”

“I have grey contacts.” His friend pouted.

Taeyong deadpanned. Ten reached across the table and grabbed his hand, shaking it slightly.

“Okay, I’m sorry, don’t kill me.” Ten smiled apologetically. He sat back and blew into his drink. “Continue.”

“I ran into him at the subway station when I was heading home from work yesterday.”

“You guys met before?”

“No, like, I literally ran into him. I dropped my keys and everything.” Taeyong explained. “He caught me before I hit the ground.”

“Like a scene from a drama.” Ten looked dreamily into the distance.

“And then, this afternoon, he showed up at the museum to give me my keys. I forgot to even pick them up off the ground when I dropped them because I was half asleep as it was.”

“You aren’t working too hard, are you?” Ten furrowed his eyebrows in worry, taking his hand again.

“Don’t even start,” Taeyong pulled it away with an eye roll. “Taeil hyung already beat you to it yesterday.”

Ten pursed his lips but didn’t persist, sitting back and sipping.

“Anyway,” Taeyong continued, sitting back in his own chair, looking out the window at passing strangers. “He brought the keys back, and said he felt sorry about yesterday. He talks really weird.”

“Ooh, there’s always a catch. Weird, how?” Ten quirked an eyebrow.

“Like, sophisticated. Like he’s a prince or something.” Taeyong shifted in his seat. “Don’t laugh at me for saying this, but, it's kinda hot. It.. adds to his charm, I guess? It fits him.”

“You bump into a pretty guy on the subway and suddenly he’s prince charming?” Ten clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“It’s not just that he’s pretty, Ten.” Taeyong downed the remnants in his cup. “His, like, energy is really attractive, too. He’s got this really calm confidence about him, but it’s not, like, fuckboy cockiness or anything. And his eyes are really gentle, but also kinda intense? Like he’s looking into your soul.”

“Wow,” Ten blinked, his eyebrows raised to his forehead. “You sound whipped.”

“He’s been stuck in my head since I got out of work.” Taeyong groaned, resting his face in his hands.

“Poor hyung,” Ten patted his shoulder sympathetically. “ Are you gonna pursue him?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again.” Taeyong sighed, curling his finger into his hair. The idea of not seeing Yoonoh again was unusually distressing. “He only found me again this time because of the return address on that key ring. But, I wanna see him again.”

“Why didn’t you ask for his phone number?”

Taeyong looked up at Ten, his eyes squinted “Have you met me?”

“Unfortunately.” Ten grinned and pinched his friend’s cheek.

“What am I gonna do?”

“Die mad, I guess.”

“God, you’re no help.” Taeyong scowled. “Why do I even hang out with you?”

“I think you’re being dramatic, hyung.” His friend folded his fingers together and rested his chin on them with a slight frown. “It’s not like you live in different parts of the world. You know he takes the same subway as you, and he knows where you work. You’re bound to run into each other again.”

 

~

 

As Taeyong hurried down the stairs of the subway station, heading back home from his coffee date, he considered their conversation. A part of him hoped Ten was right, that he’d see Yoonoh in the subway station again, or maybe even at his job, though he doubted the latter. It’s not like Yoonoh would ever need to come back to the museum, being that he only went to return the key ring in the first place. Taeyong couldn’t assume he’d even want to see him again, he was a simple stranger which Yoonoh felt he owed a debt to. It was possible he wasn’t even interested in men, Taeyong thought, taking out his wallet for the subway fare. Still, Taeyong hoped he might run into him again.

Rounding a support beam in the subway station, he was thrown out of his thoughts when he collided with a sturdy figure, his coins and wallet scattered across the cement.

“Are you following me?” Said Yoonoh, his grey eyes swimming with mirth, lips twitching with a smirk. He watched with hands dug into his coat pockets as Taeyong crouched to pick up his things.

“All this deja-vu’s gonna give me whiplash.” Taeyong muttered, mostly to himself, willing the heat stinging his face to go away by the time he gathered everything. He plucked each individual coin off the cold cement, trying to buy some time.

“You know,” Yoonoh raises a brow, a finger on his chin as he watched Taeyong stuff his things in his pocket. “For someone with such a graceful appearance, you’re quite clumsy, aren’t you?”

“Sorry.” Taeyong righted himself and let out something between a laugh and a sigh, brushing away the strands that fell over his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or offended, so he decided to ignore the back handed compliment altogether. “I should really pay more attention.”

“You should.” Yoonoh nodded, his lopsided smile widening.

“It’s kinda funny, actually,” Taeyong took a deep breath, trying to gather courage to do what he had failed to last time. “We keep running into each other-”

Yoonoh snorted.

“-it’s like the universe wants us to keep meeting. Maybe we should.. stay in contact. Exchange numbers?.” Taeyong rushed out, pulling out his phone.

Yoonoh’s eyes turned apologetic upon spotting the device. “Ah, um, that won’t work.”

“Oh.” Taeyong’s stomach lit up in flames like his skin at such a blatant dismissal. Disappointment and embarrassment swirled in his gut like ingredients for a bubbling pot of rejection stew. “Um. Okay. Sorry.”

His ears prickled as he pocketed his phone, dropping his gaze to his shoes as he attempted to turn tail, planning to sulk over his loss in a cold concrete corner until his subway arrived. Maybe he could call Ten and sob into a tub of ice-cream when he got home.

The other man side stepped him, Taeyong cleared his throat and stepped the other way, Yoonoh following. Taeyong looked up, Yoonoh’s face lit with bemusement. Taeyong didn’t think it was quite as funny, and he opened his mouth to tell him off.

“Allow me to at least finish,” Yoonoh raised a hand gently. Taeyong closed his mouth and swallowed his reprimand. “That won’t work, simply because I don’t have a phone. I would like to stay in contact, though.”

Relief spread through Taeyong, cooling his face slightly. It then twisted with confusion. “Wait. You don’t have a phone?”

“It’s a long story.” Yoonoh rolled his eyes. “Let me tell it to you over coffee.”

Taeyong’s head nodded without his permission. He didn’t mind, not with the happy grin it brang to Yoonoh’s face. He would’ve accepted without much thought anyway.

“Ah, good.” The man’s cheeks dimpled with the brightness of his smile. “I’ll pick you up from work, tomorrow, if that’s alright?”

“I get off pretty late tomorrow..” Taeyong admitted, fiddling with his coat sleeve. “Like, midnight. Isn’t that too late for coffee?”

“No, that’s perfect.” Yoonoh shook his head. “There’s a 24 hour shop I visit quite often. We’ll go there.”

Taeyong nodded again. The station tunnel whooshed with an arriving subway, Taeyong looked over Yoonoh’s shoulder at his ride slow to a stop. Yoonoh followed his gaze, glancing back briefly, and his smile dimmed a bit.

“Until then,” He said, laying a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. “Take heed not to clash with anyone else.”

“Only with you.” Taeyong grinned cheekily, his heartbeat spiking at the touch.

Yoonoh smirked and gave a quick pat to his shoulder, his hand sliding down Taeyong’s arm as he walked past him.

Taeyong stepped through the doors of the subway with a thrumming heart, watching Yoonoh’s dark figure bound up the cement stairs before the doors slid closed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna mention that i was originally inspired to make Taeyong a museum curator because of his apparent liking for classical art, as seen by his [recent phone back screen.](https://twitter.com/hausoftaeyong/status/1047318262583894016)
> 
> also, jaehyun's look is based on his iconic poetic beauty era.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the support this fic is getting, I did't think it would get more than 100 in the first month, but within a week, there've been almost 700 hits! thats crazy. I hope you all continue to like and support this story as it continues.

_“ "_ Only with you _’_ ? _Oh my god, hyung, you_ didn’t _.”_

Taeyong bit his lip with his face buried in his pillow, glad that Ten couldn’t see how red it surely felt from the other end of the phone.

“I _know_ ,” Taeyong mumbled from his pillow, kicking his feet into the bed in embarrassment. “I think I just panicked because he touched me. I never flirt, _god,_ why did I _say_ that?”

_“Knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flames.”_

“ I’m sure I looked like I was about to. Kinda wish I had, now.”

_“It’s not that bad..”_ Ten assured, though it sounded unconvincing. _“You know what’s more embarrassing than a cheesy line? Not having a fucking phone in 2018. Who doesn’t have a phone in 2018??”_

“Seriously,” Taeyong agreed, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling. He couldn’t see much in the dark of his room, not that there was anything to see that he hadn’t already anyway. His insomnia had made him very familiar with his popcorn ceiling. “If I hadn’t seen him, I’d think he was from the Joseon dynasty.”

_“Well I_ haven’t _seen him, and I wouldn’t doubt it.”_ Ten scoffed, the sound of plastic crackling in the background. _“There’s always a catch, Taeyong hyung.”_

Taeyong knew his friend was right, nobody came without baggage, but Yoonoh hadn’t really shown him anything heavy enough to scare Taeyong away. Sure, his accent was a little outdated, but it was just how he talked, a part of who he was, so was it really that bad? Taeyong could definitely get over it, not that he minded it anyway; he wasn’t lying when he’d told Ten he found it somehow attractive. Not wanting to dwell on the idea of Yoonoh being less than perfect, Taeyong hummed in response, twisting his free hand in the air absentmindedly, listening to the crunch and smack of whatever he’d heard Ten open on the other end.

_“So, are you gonna go casual,”_ Ten asked after a while. _“Or, like, keep the flirtatious train going and show up in short shorts?”_

“Short shorts? In winter?” Taeyong guffawed. “I might as well go naked.”

_“Actually, that’s not a bad idea-”_

“ _No._ ” Taeyong drawled with a roll of his eyes, turning sideways in his bed. He put his feet flat against the wall. “I’m obviously gonna dress casually. We’re going to a coffee shop, not a strip club.”

_“Ooh, I know. Maybe you could do a mix of both, it’d be the perfect opportunity to showcase that hoodie you got from Yuta hyung, right?”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taeyong knew the exact hoodie Ten was talking about. It’d been hung up in his closet since he’d been gifted it for his birthday. A matching pair of purple hoodies, _‘sexual fantasies’_ printed in pink English letters, right over the chest. He’d stuffed it in his closet for retirement after having learnt what the English meant from Johnny hyung, who’d been snickering with Ten since Taeyong had first put it on.

_“Yes you do.”_ Ten smacked over the phone. _“I haven’t seen you wear it in a while,”_

“I.. threw it away.” Taeyong said as he pushed himself halfway over his bed, looking straight-upside down into his open closet at the purple sleeves of mentioned hoodie.

_“Prude.”_ Ten muttered, though it lacked any real venom. _“You look hot in it.”_

“You say that about everything I wear.” Taeyong said as he let himself slide fully off the bed.

_“Only because it’s true! I don’t lie, Taeyong hyung.”_

_“I beg to differ,”_ Scoffed a deep voice in the background.

“Is that Johnny hyung?” Taeyong brightened, sitting up off his floor.

_“Yes, and you’re on speaker, say hi.”_

“Hiiiii, Johnny hyuuung~” Taeyong called.

_“Hiiii, Taeyongiiiie~”_ Johnny’s voice came through a little clearer. _“You got a date, huh?”_

“I do!”

_“Speaking of, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?”_ Ten muttered.

_“‘Course, babe.”_

Taeyong’s face twisted in mock disgust with the sounds of kissing through the phone.

“Ew, guys, I’m still here.”

“ _Shut up, you can’t even see us.”_ Said Ten.

“No, but I can _hear_ you, and I’d rather not.”

_“Ah-Johnny-”_

“Gross!” Taeyong screeched upon Ten’s moan, ripping his phone away from his face. “I’m hanging up! Good _night_ , nasties!” He yelled at the phone before clicking off.

Letting out a sigh, he gathered himself from the floor and plopped back on the bed, back to staring at the ceiling. He felt nervous about the coffee date, it’d stewed in his mind the entire two hours it took to get back to his apartment, his stomach swirling with a mix of giddyness and anxiety. He’d changed his mind on what outfit to wear more than a couple of times when he’d gotten home.

Taeyong chewed his lip, crawling under his blanket and settling in on his side. He looked around his room, on the bare walls and shadows of furniture in the darkness.

 

He wouldn’t let himself overthink it before it happened.

  


~

 

The day went by agonizingly slow, minutes dragging on like hours, even with his busy job at the restaurant where he always had something to do, it wasn’t enough to distract him from the squirming in his belly.

By the time Taeyong was walking back through the dingy streets to make his subway to the museum, he was nearly jogging, excitement to get there and uneasiness of the dark neighborhood urging his feet to move faster. His backpack jumped around on his back from the brisk pace, he hoped the clothes he’d packed for the date wouldn’t get too crumpled.

Passing through this place, Taeyong often had a ritual. After every other block, he’d check behind him to make sure there was nobody following, keeping his paranoia in check. All the people he passed in this part of town always held an air about them, ominously lurking in shadowed alleys and sizing up everyone who passed with cold, wary eyes. Taeyong surely looked the same way, but he felt like more of a target, his thin frame made him seem more like prey, weak, and someone who couldn’t defend himself.

Today though, he’d been occupied in his own thoughts, so he hadn’t bothered to check around him as often, reasoning that he never got hurt down these streets before anyway, he’d be fine this time too.

Taeyong was more than a quarter of the way through the neighborhood, in the most shifty part, once he finally remembered to look around. Just a quick glance, as always.

There was someone. Hooded, and walking just as briskly as Taeyong, a few yards behind him, the only exposed part of them was their eyes, the rest covered in a face mask. They were staring directly at Taeyong, and they made brief eye contact, and the chill of the person’s glare sent Taeyong’s heart racing. Taeyong whipped around, and continued his trek, he’d walk faster but it would be considered running then, so he instead kept his eyes to the ground and tried to stay calm.

This was fine. There was just another person, nothing to be suspicious of. But the piercing gaze of the person felt threatening, and Taeyong couldn’t help but feel nervous from it. He looked behind him again, he hadn’t even passed the block yet, but the person was closer, having gained a few feet. They’re hands were stuffed in the pockets of their hoodie, bulky shapes pressing against the fabric as they fiddled with it.

Taeyong focused back on his feet. It was fine. That could be anything in their hands, anything at all. Taeyong wouldn’t jump to conclusions, his suspicion was just messing with his mind.

He could hear the person’s footsteps now, thumping with their thick boots against the broken cement. Taeyong didn’t dare turn around now, he was too scared of what he’d see. He squeezed his eyes closed as he heard the person approaching, praying to whatever god there could be to keep him from being serial murdered before he could have his coffee date with Yoonoh. He felt himself holding his breath, felt a presence closing in.

There was a rush of wind past him, and he heard the footsteps ahead of him, pounding on steadily. Taeyong’s eyes pried open and he watched as the hooded person walked away, rounding the corner a few feet ahead.

Taeyong let out an unsteady breath as relief spread through his muscles, he rubbed his hands together, clammy and freezing in the winter air. He’d been worried for nothing, Taeyong almost laughed at himself as he rounded the corner.

Suddenly, he felt a grip on the strap of his backpack, and he was yanked back into the alleyway, then thrown against the brick wall. He probably would have hit his head with the force of it, but thankfully, his backpack cushioned him.

He stared down into the eyes of a hooded person- close up he could tell they were a girl- his heart palpating.

Her eyes were blood red, bright and burning, but the feeling in them was colder than ice. Taeyong wondered if the was in a fever dream, if he’d worked too hard back at the restaurant and unknowingly passed out on the way back.

“Where is your wallet.” She asked with a calm, silky voice, more of a command than a question.

“What?” Taeyong stuttered. He couldn’t look away from her eyes.

“Your wallet.” The girl shook Taeyong with his backpack straps, shoving him against the brick wall roughly. “Give it to me.”

“What-no.” Taeyong huffed, the air driven out of him from the force of it. This girl was so much stronger than she looked. “I’m not giving you my wallet, what the hell is wrong with you?”

She rolled her eyes, and reached in her hoodie pocket, pulling out a knife. She pressed it against his cheek, the steel cold and sharp against his flesh.

“That was not a request,” The girl said unamusedly. “I’m quite famished as it is, and I assure you I can hurt you far worse than this knife can, so I would recommend that you listen to me so we can get this over with quickly.”

“I..okay, fine. Okay.” Taeyong gulped. He wasn’t about to fight with someone who had the advantage, even if she was smaller than him, his money wasn’t worth being stabbed.

“Wonderful.” The girl smiled, her canines gleaming even in the dimness of the alley, just grazing her bottom lip. They definitely weren’t supposed to be that long. “So, where is it?”

“My backpack,” Taeyong said.

The girl yanked it off of him and unzipped it with her free hand, the knife still pressed against Taeyong’s face. She pulled out his clothes he’d packed after searching for a few moments, and glanced back up at Taeyong.

“Are you a hitchhiker?” She asked. Taeyong swallowed. Upon his silence, she pressed the steel harder into his cheek. “I’m speaking to you, you had better respond.”

“Um-” Taeyong cleared his throat, he felt his skin close to breaking. “I- no. I have a date.”

“Aw, good for you,” The girl half smiled as she looked back into the bag to pull out more things. “Is she pretty?”

“Why-why do you even care?” Taeyong scrunched his brows. “Why are you talking to me? Isn’t this a robbery?”

“Is it illegal to make conversation?” She smiled as she pressed the knife harder, her teeth hooking over her lip again. “And maybe I want join your little date and have a snack.”

“You..eat people..?” Taeyong felt an entirely new sense of unease. It was one thing to be robbed by a random person. It was another if they was also a cannibal. Or..whatever she was.

“I eat _women_.” The girl explained with a carefree laugh. “Men are a bit too musky for my taste. So be lucky I’m not interested in you, boy, because like I said, I’m very hungry.” She glanced pointedly at him, her eyes burned a little deeper for a moment.

Taeyong didn’t know whether he was relieved or not, he couldn’t feel much besides his heart pounding in his chest and in his ears.

“What’s her name?” The other continued conversationally, finally pulling out his wallet.

“He’s a guy,” Taeyong huffed as he watched her pull out the stack of won. “And it’s Yoonoh.”

“Hm,” She counted through the stack in contempt. “I used to know a man of that name.”

Seemingly satisfied, she drew back her knife and stuffed the money in her hoodie, dropping Taeyong’s things to his feet.

“Well, thank you for your compliance.” She stepped back. “I hope your date goes well.”

“Thanks.” Taeyong scoffed, and then he blinked and was alone in the alleyway. He looked back through it, searching for where the girl had gone, catching a pair of boots disappeared over the wall of the alley.

Taeyong blinked for a few more moments, then let out a shaky breath, his legs collapsing under him, he slid to the cold ground. His hands where the knife had been on his cheek, and drew back.

There was a smear of orange on his fingertips.


End file.
